Category Archives: Music

#1000: The Rutles – Ouch!

And here it is. The 1000th entry on this ongoing series. Took almost 10 years, but it’s finally arrived. We’re now much nearer to the end than to its beginning. And the song to mark it is one by a band that isn’t real, but sort of is, and a complete parody of ‘Help!’ by the Beatles. Couldn’t make this stuff up. Though what I’ve mentioned may be the case, it doesn’t stop me from actually preferring ‘Ouch!’ much more in comparison to the source of its inspiration. A whole lot more, honestly.

For those not in the know, the Rutles were the brainchild of Monty Python man Eric Idle who wrote a mockumentary based on the Beatles entitled All You Need Is Cash. You can watch it on YouTube. Neil Innes wrote all the songs that were clever parodies and takes on real Beatles songs. On ‘Ouch!’, Neil Innes copies the structure and elements of ‘Help!’ down to a tee. The call and response dynamic of the backing and lead vocals during the verses, the descending arpeggiated scale that the guitar plays preceding each verse. Generally, the whole band performance. What differs the most between the two is the actual melody of everything that’s sung and the lyrical matter. While John Lennon was doing some soul searching, writing with a lot of sincerity on his part, Innes turns it into another love song – making it about a person who’s begging his partner not to leave and pondering why those feelings that love brings have to hurt so badly.

I don’t know what else to say, really. I think I got it all down in the preceding paragraph. Maybe some “pure” Beatles fan may hear it and think, “How can you like a parody over the real thing?” All I can say is, that’s just how it is. Forgetting that it’s based of the music of a very, very successful band, the track stands up on its own just because of its great songwriting. In that way, it’s miles ahead of any other parodies out there. And it’s not trying to be funny either, also like a lot of parodies out there. Those ones I don’t like so much. Neil Innes really hit it out of the park for the movie soundtrack, that’s all it come down to. So with that, this’ll be the last Rutles track in this series that I’ll post about. It’s been fun. Had to end some time.

#999: Mercury Rev – Opus 40

I can sort of remember listening through Deserter’s Songs that first time round. How I came upon it was by going through the best albums of 1998, according to the website besteveralbums.com. Why that year? I couldn’t tell you. It had also received a 9.3 out of 10 rating on Pitchfork. As an avid follower of the site during that time, 2013/14, it only made sense that I should hear what it was all about. If Pitchfork said so, it must be good, right? Jeez, that place has changed. They weren’t wrong though. ‘Opus 40’ arrives in the centre of Deserter’s Songs. Not to say that I wasn’t a fan of the track on the first listen. I do recall thinking the chorus was nice. But it was the revisits from then on that properly unveiled how great the whole thing was.

The lyrical matter is actually very dark. Seems to be about a woman who’s terribly sad and tries to kill herself on multiple occasions but never dies. Mentions of ‘scratching her wrists’, ‘collapsing down upon the ocean floor’ and the obvious ‘Woke up and climbed from the suicide machine’ would probably lend to that interpretation, suffice to say. Despite all this, the music surrounding it is some of the most gracious and elevating pieces put to tape. Strings, maybe oboes/clarinets, trippy synths and an organ solo. Every instrument that you wouldn’t usually associate with a traditional rock band. They’re all in there. The music video only provides what I assume to be the radio edit, but the album provides an extended outro where the music settles down accompanied by harmonising backing vocalists and a whistling solo. It’s a beautiful take on the usual sad lyrics/happy music dynamic.

The track itself also serves as a bit of an ode to the music of the The Band and the Catskill Mountains in New York. How so, you might ask Well, this article gives a band-given recollection of how the track came to be. Reading it, it seemed to be generally good times when recording the track. How could it not be with the OG Levon Helm drumming on the song that you wrote as an homage for his band. Can only imagine the satisfaction. Yep, this is a good one. I’m also aware that the next song will be the 1000th entry on here. Big cheers. Stay tuned.

#998: Radiohead – Optimistic

When I heard Kid A for the first time back in 2012, I was left wondering what all the hype was about. Mind you, I was 17 listening to it through tinny headphones and on this website called we7.com (if anyone remembers that – good on you) which I don’t think had the greatest audio quality either. Not like it sounded like complete garbage, but it wasn’t lossless audio. But I distinctly remember the ending harps on ‘Motion Picture Soundtrack’ doing their thing and thinking, “This is what’s considered to be one of the greatest albums of all time?” It was naive stuff. I did however have my initial highlights from that first listen. ‘Optimistic’ being one of them. On an album that had no singles to promote it, this one seemed like it would have been the obvious choice had there been one.

Right out of the gate, the track gives you two main melodic hooks that lock themselves in the mental vault. The opening where Thom Yorke howls alongside the guitar riff, which them comes back with a vengeance near the end, and the main guitar riff that occurs during the verses. In those sections, amidst a tribal-like tom-tom drum pattern and grooving bassline, Yorke provides lyrics that to me describe a sort of barren wasteland, devoid of human life, where only the dinosaurs walk, flies buzz around and vultures circle the skies. A bit of an apocalyptic tone going on here, alongside a flip on the “This Little Piggy” nursery rhyme that occurs during the second verse. It’s one of those tracks where it could be about nothing and everything at the same time. Really, the primary line to take into account is what appears in the chorus, inspired by Thom Yorke’s partner at the time who assured that the best he could do was good enough as he was battling severe self-doubt after the draining period of touring OK Computer. It comes as a bit of ray of light amongst the darkness.

It’s been ten years now, but I’ve known for a while at this point that Kid A is a great album. I can understand why it gets the acclaim it does. Not saying it’s one of my favourite albums, but I won’t stop if I let it run from front to back. ‘Optimistic’ comes right in the middle of it, opening its second half, and provides the first moment when you can actually hear an electric guitar on the whole record. The song’s a ball of tension. Carried by the aforementioned drum pattern and bass groove, the track has moments where it opens and closes before really bursting into a release when the cymbals enter the frame for the climactic ending. Brings a very satisfying close to it all. Well, it doesn’t even end there, as there’s another groovy interlude that segues into the album’s next track. That didn’t have to be there, but even that part is something look forward to when I hear this song. So much so I wish they replicated it at their live shows.

#997: They Might Be Giants – Operators Are Standing By

This one’s for the phone operators out there. Written and sung by John Flansburgh of They Might Be Giants, ‘Operators Are Standing By’ is the seventh track on the band’s 1999 album Long Tall Weekend. Like ‘Minumum Wage’ nine years earlier, ‘Operators…’ is an upbeat track dedicated to those who work in crappy office jobs on a low income and loathe each day that comes. It’s much more specific than ‘Wage’ however, just because there are actual employees of a specific role involved in the lyrics, rather than the grand statement that ‘Wage’ presents in its bluntness.

The track paints a picture of these phone operators, all assumed to be women if we’re to also go by what the lyrics say, who are doing almost everything except the job they’re supposed to be doing. In order of mention, they smoke cigarettes, drink coffee, bounce their shoes off the end of their feet, wish they could go home, poke holes in the ceiling tiles, make jokes about their old boyfriends and days gone by, talk about their portrayal on the TV, and pass round a picture of a Möbius strip. This is all brought to a halt when the boss comes in with a “That’s enough talking, ladies” warning. Only for a moment though as they resume not working and wishing to be anywhere else.

The song’s a short one, only about a minute and 20 seconds in length, but there’s a lot on here to latch onto. I particularly enjoy Flansburgh’s vocal take. The tone of it and the sort of tape-echo effect on there. The low end throughout sounds massive. Whoever’s decision that was to make it so should get some props. Whenever the kick drum and bass guitar come into, there’s a very booming tone that occurs. Maybe there’s some extra percussion hidden in the mix somewhere that adds to that. And it’s all delivered with this swinging tempo. Can’t help but sway and click my fingers to the beat with this one. Won’t be the first song TMBG fans would recommend to you. But I’m here saying right now that it’s worth a shot.

#996: Jamie T – Operation

Jamie T’s Panic Prevention was released in 2007. At the time, I was already accustomed to ‘Salvador’, ‘If You Got the Money’, ‘Sheila’ and ‘Calm Down Dearest’. Those were the singles that were released in advance. I didn’t buy the album. But I think a friend of my sister’s did and allowed her to borrow it for a bit, so she could rip the songs onto the computer and return it. She turned into a bit of fan of his. I think she went to see him play in an HMV somewhere, and I recall her singing deeper cuts like ‘Back in the Game’ around the house. I think ‘Operation’ was a favourite of hers as well. One time, she definitely said the “Filler, no thriller” lyric just out of the blue for no particular reason. This is all a haze and not very fun to read, but this was my sister’s life and whatever she did was her business. She would have been 15, and I – 11, so didn’t want to get involved too much.

At some point, I came to really like ‘Operation’ though. Coming in at almost six minutes in length, it’s the second longest song on Panic Prevention. What it’s about is anyone’s guess. There’s a lot of words put together, and they sound good, but they’re not meant to make any logical sense going from one line to the next. Except for maybe in the choruses where Jamie T throws a shout-out to ‘all the dead people’, especially ‘Diego’. He sings and delivers his words in a thick British accent. It’s very English. Wouldn’t be surprised if people from the UK were confused as to what exactly he’s saying and be left even more dumbfounded once coming across the lyrics online. Going for a more sound than sense approach with lyrics can always work out well, especially if there’s some good music behind it. The track is one of those where it’s almost two separate songs blended together, fluidly switching from one movement to another about three minutes in via an instrumental break.

Despite the lyrical verbosity, the vocal delivery, and the length that might put some hesitant new listeners off, there are hooks abound throughout the whole thing. I’m very sure there are vocal passages that have been cut and paste, they sound exactly the same when comparing the initial point they’re sung and once they’re repeated again. And in that way, they seem to lodge themselves into your head just that bit more. Maybe, it’s in its own way, it’s meant to be some deep critique of artists regurgitating the same stuff over and over again to get their stuff on the radio in some very hidden, subtle way. But it’s almost a 100% that that’s a massive reach on my part.